iMake Sam Girlier Again
by NewYorkRainbow
Summary: Carly is pretty surprised when Sam wakes her up by jumping on her bed. She's even more surprised when she learns what Sam wants. But will the end result be the biggest surprise of it all? Nah, she totally saw it coming. On hiatus until someone pays attention to my plea for help.
1. Chapter 1

**iMake Sam Girlier… Again!**

**A/N: This is my first fanfiction, and I hope you people like it. It's not really my best work, but I still like the idea. I hope you enjoy, and I don't own iCarly. I apologize beforehand if anything's out of character.**

Carly's PoV

I woke up to Sam jumping onto my bed using that awesome trampoline. Let me tell you, that is almost as bad as waking up because you feel a slight stab in your side and finding a taco in your bed! Never agree to let your Mexican food loving best friend stay with you. Cue the shuddering.

Anyways, obviously, as soon as I realized that Sam had just leaped on top of me, I opened my eyes to yell out something. Then, I noticed something very odd. Sam's eyes were filled with agitation and even a little bit a fear.

Samantha Puckett afraid was something that was never seen. Even I, her best friend, rarely saw her scared, so I shut my mouth and gave her my full attention.

Unfortunately, she didn't talk, so I, of course, prompted her to spill.

"Sa-am. Why did you jump on me? In bed. At 3:00 am. In my apartment. How did you get in here anyways? I thought Spencer locked the door with the new chain instead of using the lock."

Sam answered my second question first: "Well, I guess he forgot to use the chain."

She seemed innocent. Too innocent. She was lying. I smiled slightly. I'd just let her get away with it… this time.

"And you're here because…?"

Sam bit her lip, then answered me slowly and carefully, "I… I need you to help," she took a deep breath, and the rest of her words came very quickly, "mebeadaffodilagain"

After the words were separated and absorbed in my head, my eyes widened slightly. Sam had another crush! I felt like squealing for joy and with shock, and squeal I did. Quite loudly, actually.

Sam winced slightly and rubbed her ears. Oops. I knew it was loud, but not that loud.

"Jeez, Carlotta, what was that about?"

"I can't believe it! You have another crush! Who is it?" I nearly shrieked. I did control myself, that time, though. In my defense, I was excited! I loved it whenever Sam and I could girl talk. And if she was going all girly, then this guy was probably a law-abiding citizen! Although, it might be best if he liked her for her….

Sadly, Sam didn't have a love of girl talks like me. She just clammed up and frowned.

I sighed and said, "You'll tell me someday. What do you want me to do?"

Sam smiled and replied with a simple, "Do your worst."

I scurried to my closet like a Pak-Rat after cheese with a happy grin. There, I collected my mini make-up kit (Sam should be grateful I didn't pull out the mega make-up kit. Or the monster make-up kit), some hair ties, and a bundle of clothes. Then, I practically sprinted to the bathroom to get my straightener, a basin, and bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Who knew when the last time Sam washed her hair was?

It took me a while to get the things, so I was a little worried that Sam might've rethought this and left. I was pretty happy and a bit amazed when I saw that she was still there.

As I dug through my drawers for some perfume and hairclips, I said, "You must really like this guy."

Sam jumped a bit. I guessed that she was busy looking at the pile on my bed with increasing horror.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well," I responded, "You're still here even after I've been piling this stuff in plain view."

I turned to look at her, and she just shrugged. She so liked this guy. It was just too cute!

I came back with several tiny bottles of perfume samples and glittery hair clips.

Dumping it all on the bed, I said, "I'm just going to experiment with the clothes for things like best color choices and skirt length and with the make-up and accessories. Then, we go shopping.

Sam groaned until I coaxed her with an entire food court meal and trip to Build-a-Bra on me. She always borrows money from me, but lately, she's been able to get some money from her mom to buy things.

"You're still going to have to pay for half of your new clothes, accessories, and make-up, though."

Sam immediately started groaning again, and I wished that I hadn't said that. Oh well, at least now she knows and won't accuse me of stuff. She'd make a pretty good lawyer. You know, if she actually abided the law. Or ate less ham. Or blamed Freddie less. Hey, maybe Freddie was... nah. I could see Sam with maybe a minor crush on everybody's favorite cuchy nerd, but this? Nuh uh.

Five hours and thirty-four different clothing, cosmetics, accessories, and hair care stores later, we ended up in the cafeteria with two super-sized sandwiches and a disgusted/traumatized Sam as I tried to teach her etiquette. Tried being, for once, not the operative word.

After another two hours, I'd taught her to eat with her mouth closed, how to take tinier bites, and how to eat only one super-sized sandwich per meal. I also taught her not to use her bra for a food storage compartment. All in all, a surprisingly successful day. I wonder who the lucky guy is to merit this. I'm bugging her about it later.

After we got back to the Bushwell (and I taught Sam not to chuck the two shopping bags full of clothes at Lewbert's whiney head), I got to work. I painted her fingernails magenta with yellow polka dots and washed her long, blonde hair. I plaited it into a loose braid so, hopefully, she'll have sweet waves instead of wild (if awesome) curls in the morning. I bet that her hair would be smelling strongly of artificial grape in the morning. I used a whole bottle of that shampoo!

I also put together an outfit of a loose, pale yellow blouse and pink skirt that just brushed her knees. I added a pair of fuzzy, light, tan boots and a heart shaped necklace (the same magenta as her nails). I also found a ponytail holder of mine that had cute little clusters of white and pink hearts. I was exhausted after it all.

Sadly, even after all of my effort, Sam wouldn't tell me who the guy was. I'll get it out of her, though, even if I have to strap her to my red, butt-muscle-working chair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two  
><strong>**I am so so so so so so so so so so so sorry! I promised myself that I wouldn't leave people hanging too long and then I do it. My excuses have to do with holidays, (blushes) laziness issues, and (super blushes) boys. I hope you enjoy!  
>49/2012 Update: Hi! I just edited this chapter a bit and I realized that when I was typing, I switched the blushing in my A/N. And could you please send me a PM or a review when there's a mistake you catch? Thank you! :)  
><strong>

I had to wake up _way_ too early so I could prepare Sam for her first dramatic entrance of daffodil-ness. I also had to wake up Sam way too early. I am so glad I'm her best friend. Otherwise, it would've been Bye Bye, Carly Day.

I got to her hair first. I undid the loose braid and simple, pretty waves came out. I quickly spritzed it with hairspray before she moved and messed it all up. I did _not_ go to bed exhausted and proud from wrestling with those curls for nothing.

Anyways, I stuck the mass of blond hair into a high ponytail and then put the heart one over the original, matching-with-her-hair one.

Something wasn't quite right, and I took a sniff. I think I nearly gagged when I realized how much her smelled like artificial grape. I'm only surprised I didn't notice it earlier.

I looked down at the little perfume bottle in my hand. I did the only thing I could: I chucked that bottle onto the bed as if it had sprouted wings. Well, maybe that's not the _only_ thing, but she smelled of enough fragrance without adding Lavender Essence to the mix.

Anyways, after I did that, I stuffed Sam into her clothes while she just stood there. Thankfully, she didn't whine or squirm. Unfortunately, she just… well, stood there. No help whatsoever. I did manage it, though, and got her feet into the boots too.

I eventually managed to get her to sit at my "make-up mirror" and applied the foundation, lip gloss, and mascara. Somewhere along the line, she fell asleep. I didn't even notice until she let loose a huge snore. I think it might've even caused a slight earthquake. It's a good thing Spencer's insurance covers that too. Who knows? We might even lose another watch with a diamond encrusted bezel.

Well, when I heard Sam snoring, I indignantly jabbed her eyelid with the mascara wand. I felt guilty when I heard Sam shriek, but I had to wake her up somehow without messing up all of my work! I'm pretty sure the vegetable sprayer or hiring Spencer would've messed up the work.

I finished up with her and turned to me. I should just teach Sam how to use the make-up for more everyday things. Then, things might be easier. I mean, there is that saying about beauty being pain (or, in this case, sleep deprivation), but I never really believed it.

"Alright, Sam. Up and at 'em. It's time to seize the day and embrace your inner daffodil," I said, smothering a yawn and trying to remain perky. Cheery Carly should be my nickname.

She stands up and looks into a mirror that I got her.

"Holy chiz! I look like Melanie!" she practically screams.

I turn her around and notice that she does, indeed, resemble Melanie. That's not exactly what I was hoping for.

"Um, but you do look pretty and girly?" I said, the sentence coming out as a question. That might not be what Sam wants to hear….

Surprisingly, Sam just sort of deflates and mutters something about how this had better be worth it.

I frown a little bit (which gets me poked with a mascara wand). This isn't really normal Sam behavior. Who is this boy, for iCarly's sake?

"Sam?" I ask. Maybe if she's tired, she'll give away something.

She just makes this weird noise in between grunting and humming. I'll take it as acknowledgment.

"Who's the guy you have a crush on?"

Sam just stiffens like that dead cricket that was once in her shoe, her mouth clamped tight. Aw, chiz. I thought she'd give more information away. Cue the sighing.

"Fine, let's just get Spencer to give us a ride to school. And remember to pay attention! Even to Mrs. Briggs."

Sam just groans before nodding. She's not very chatty in the mornings, is she?

"Just smuggle me some turkey bacon."

Except for when it comes to her beloved bacon, apparently. Hmmph. Bacon's more important then me, her best friend that slaved away for two and a half hours (90 minutes needed for getting her into the clothes), and merits words in the morning.

I smile slightly. Classic Sam.

* * *

><p>The muscle under Sam's eye has been twitching over and over for the past five minutes. She looks about an inch from ripping someone's head off. She has shown really good control for not murdering the people on the spot.<p>

Why? Well, she has been on he receiving end of cat calls, wolf whistles, dog drool (or at least a very realistic imitation of it), and mouths open into an O. What's with all of the animal things anyways?

"Please let me at 'em," she muttered out of the side of her mouth. She said please! My manners training is obviously going well.

I shook my head and gave her a stern look even though I was tempted to hurt some people too. Our peers are so annoying sometimes! Not that I'd tell then. Usually.

We make it to our lockers with little incident, and Freddie's there waiting for us. I never did figure out how he managed to stay intact from his encounters with the wrestlers on either side of his locker. Maybe being partnered with one of them helped?

"Hey, did you hear about the new g— oh my… gosh," Freddie said. Poor Freddie. Mrs. Benson has drilled it into him so much.

"What are you lookin' at, nub?" Sam snapped. I turned to reprimand her and caught a flash of pale pink flushing her cheeks. I turned back to Freddie, my eyes sort of wide. Could it be?

"What happened?" Freddie practically yelled.

"I decided to become like Melanie. You got a problem with that?" Sam asked. Before Freddie had the chance to respond, she said, "Well, too bad."

I finally get along to scolding her with a, "Sam." I gave up on saying more a long time ago.

I examined her thoroughly and still saw some pink. It was so faint that others would mistake it for the make-up. I, however, knew that I had applied no pink to her cheeks.

I looked at Freddie, who was starting to look confused and was saying something about Melanie not being real. I looked back at Sam, who laughed and said something about feeling sorry for such a dork. I twisted my head back to Freddie, then back to Sam, then back to Freddie, then back to Sam, then back to— oh! That was getting dizzying. My neck got quite the workout.

I heard a weird snorting sound and turned my head back (again) to Sam. She was laughing/snorting at something Freddie had said, probably.

"There has to be no Melanie because I said I was just playing a trick on you?" she was saying. (Note to Carly: Give Sam lessons on laughing properly)

"Yes! I mean, no! But even _you _said there was no Melanie!"

"Well, I'm sorry to bust your geeky bubble, but Melan—."

I decided to step in before we all missed class because of a circular argument, "Be quiet you two before I dust off the squirt bottle!"

That sure shut them up. Before they started protesting.

"But he—."

"It's all her—."

"Enough!" I yelled. I feel like a mother sometimes. Cranky Carly is coming out!

"We have to get to class." Alright, Cranky Carly doesn't really last, but she is effective.

Freddie's eyes widened and he ran off to get his homework and things. Sam just snorted (Double Note to Carly: Work on laughter! Immediately!) at the idea of class stopping a fight. Until I dragged her off by her ear.

The last thing the hallway heard was, "Ow. Ow. Ow."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three  
><strong>****I'm sorry that this is pretty short, but, to be honest, I'm not sure what direction I want this story to go. Do you people have any suggestions? I'd really appreciate it! I hope you like the chapter, though.****

I had been listening to Sam complaining hour after hour after _hour_ after _GOSHFORSAKEN HOUR_! There were complaints about everything from her hair feeling like it was being constantly yanked from her scalp and her shoes pinching her toes (which was ridiculous: she had no idea of the true meaning of "pinchy shoes" until she wore a few of my pointy toed heels that were kept for special occasions) to her being hungry or tired.

She didn't fool me for a second, though. I think it was the comment about pinchy shoes that convinced me. She was just trying to get me to loosen my grip. Or distract me.

That didn't stop me from watching her like a hawk and seeing which boys she was acting differently around.

The thing was, she was acting different around _everyone_ except me and Freddie… I mean Freddie and me. That definitely did _not_ narrow it down. Unless, of course, my thought from earlier… no. Bad Carly. No pairing up your friends without solid evidence. That could just end with a lot of confusion and chaos and heartbreak. And Carlotta Shay was _not_ going to be a cause for heartbreak.

How would I get my evidence? Well… that was a bit of a work in progress, but I knew I'd figure it out eventually. For that point in the plan, there was only observation and secret scheming.

My first piece of evidence came, very conveniently, right after school.

Sam had found a piece of leftover Bolivian bacon at the back of her locker and was chewing it in a very un-lady-like fashion when she approached me.

"Hey, Carls, is it okay if I don't come over for a bit? I got paired up with Freddoofus for the big history project. The only good thing about it is that he's smart," she said, rolling her eyes.

If I wasn't her friend (and in her history class), well, for one, she wouldn't be telling me this, but two, I wouldn't have noticed the tiniest little earmarks of her lying trade. What are they? Do you think I'm crazy? Best friend or not, she'd get really mad at me for giving away any of the Patented Puckett Puzzles. They used to be called just Sam's Secrets, but then she wanted a triple alliteration.

Anyways, I knew instantly that something was up. For one thing, I knew that she'd been partnered with Reuben for the history project. For another thing, she was unfocused/flustered enough to not remember that I knew that. For _another_ thing, she had stopped eating her bacon to talk to me. That just did not happen!

Being the good friend I was, I started interrogating her. "What? You were paired with Reuben for the project! How come you said Freddie? How did you not remember that I'm in your history class? WHY DID YOU STOP EATING YOUR BACON?"

I think that some people overheard and gave me strange looks, but I was a bit too focused on what Sam's answer would be.

Her eyes widened, but instead of giving a smooth answer, she just said, "Gotta go!" and ran for the exit.

I could feel a satisfied smile spreading across my face. I just might have some proof.


End file.
